


Friday

by thegreenery



Series: Weak [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Cookies, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Dysmorphia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kinda, Knives, Nausea, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, graphic description of a panic attack, implied major character death, implied/referenced dysphoria, it could be one or both, lying, mine isn't this bad, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:08:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22832299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreenery/pseuds/thegreenery
Summary: Patton hurts.
Series: Weak [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640275
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Friday

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Graphic descriptions of past self-harm, desire to self-harm, actual self-harm, nausea, dysmorphia/dysphoria (could be one or both, it's not really specified), lying about feelings, implied death (though he doesn't die, again), panic attack
> 
> This is the worst one out of the series so far and triggered me while I was writing it. It started as a vent fic (with the description of dysphoria/dysmorphia) then got away from me with the self-harm. Please, please be safe and don't read this if it might trigger you. I love you all.

The bad feelings are back. 

Patton’s skin feels wrong. 

There’s something in his chest, in his blood, in his throat that makes goosebumps rise on his arms and his lips twist with the sour taste on his tongue. 

His fingers itch to drag a blade across his soft skin and release the shadows pooling in his veins. 

The insides of Patton’s thighs scream in agony every time the thick fabric of his khakis catches on half-scabbed burns and cuts. 

He aches to add to the menagerie of marks and wounds, to slice and scratch the wrongness off his body. 

Patton tries to swallow the desire for pain down, but the thickness of cotton in his throat forces him to cough it back up. 

He leans against the kitchen counter, cookies forgotten, knives so close, mind spiraling. 

His arm is too heavy to reach for a blade so he pushes his hands down against the edge of the counter instead. 

It’s a duller pain, but still enough to distract from the wrongness of his blood. 

The self-inflicted pain mixes and fuses with the nauseating uncomfortable feeling until tears are pouring down Patton’s cheeks and he’s curled into a ball on the floor. 

As a last ditch effort to retain some control, he smacks his head back as hard as he can into the counter. 

Sharp pain shatters across the back of his head and spreads down his spine. 

He sobs, overcome with the pain and the wrongness and the distant knowledge that footsteps are getting closer and 

someone will see and 

they can’t see and 

they’ll know and

they’ll all know and

they can’t know. 

Patton collapses to the floor, body numb and shaking, and he lets the darkness overtake him again. 

Anything to escape the feeling of bad 

bad 

bad 

bad 

bad. 

Patton is gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Progress is not a straight line. Getting better is not easy. Despite this, getting help and trying to change are the best things you can do. Self-harm is not good or healthy (no matter why you use it to cope). If you are struggling with anything like this, please contact a hotline or a medical professional. It will be difficult at first, but like I said, it's the best thing you can do. Please stay safe. <3
> 
> Suicide hotline: 1-800-273-8255  
> The Trevor Project (LGBTQ+) hotline: 1-866-488-7386


End file.
